That Which We Call A Rose
by Calenthuliel Nightstar
Summary: When an angel cries, a hero is there. When a child falls, a hero is there. When a life is about to end, a hero is there. But what happens when a hero cries? What happens when a hero falls? What happens when the hero’s life is about to end?
1. Prologue

Emilia Kent sat on an antique wooden chair, reading the newspaper silently. She looked up at the clock above the door frame and frowned slightly. Seven thirty. "Ty! Rose! Get up!" She called to the closed doors down the hall. She waited a moment, then sighed and brushed a strand of dark blonde hair behind her ear. She stood, walking into the hall and knocking on both doors of the two rooms where her children were sleeping. Her children weren't actually children any more. They were both teenagers now. They grew up so fast, or so Emilia thought.  
  
Rosalind groaned and pulled her blanket over her head. "Time." She stated simply, her voice tired. "Seven thirty." Her mother announced through the door. Rose sighed and threw the blanket back, sitting up and swinging her long legs over the edge of her bed. She stretched her arms and yawned, covering her mouth with one hand. Her mid-length dark hair fell in front of her eyes as she stood and made her way over to her dresser. She threw her clothes on and did her make-up. She was young, but to her, make-up was an essential. She pulled her hair back into a ponytail, then looked to the mirror and frowned. Her dark blue eyes stared back at her. Her eyes looked sad. Almost mysterious. As if she were hiding something...She shook her head and dropped her gaze to the floor. She forced a smile, taking one last glance at the mirror and leaving the room.  
  
  
Tybalt snored loudly in his sleep. He was curled into a ball in the middle of his bed, and his blankets were in a heap at the bottom of his bed. He heard his mother's voice calling him continuously and awoke slowly. "Shut up." he mumbled. Yeah, it was rude. But he didn't care. His dark hair was messy. Especially so this morning. He had a splitting headache. He, again, had been out partying with his friends. He knew he shouldn't have been drinking. But he was just enjoying his time in the 'in-crowd'. He was never popular before. Mostly because of his name. Tybalt. What kind of name was that? His mother had an obsession with Shakespeare. She had chosen his name, and his sister's from her two favourite plays. Romeo and Juliet and As You Like It. His mind strayed back to the more important issue. The party. If his mother ever found out...Well, she wouldn't find out. He'd managed to sneak in after his big-mouthed sister had   
went to bed. She told their mom everything. 'Little brat.' He thought to himself.   
  
  
Emilia watched as her daughter entered the room and smiled. "Morning Rose." Rosalind glanced to her mother and returned the smile. "Morning." She made her way to the kitchen cupboard and opened it, taking a three She walked to the fridge, pouring herself orange juice into each glass. She placed a glass in front of her mother and the other two on the table across from her mother. She took a seat and looked around the room. "Thanks. Where's Ty? Still sleeping, I'm guessing." asked Emilia, glancing to the clock once more. "Yeah. I guess. No, wait. He's up." Rose could hear some rock band blaring from her brother's radio. She was right.   
  
  
Moments later, Ty strolled into the kitchen. His blue eyes were dull and lifeless as he sauntered over and sunk into the chair next to his sister's. Emilia raised an eyebrow at him. "You look tired." she said with a slightly suspicious tone. Ty mumbled something inaudible and dropped his head to the table. 'Stupid beer.' He thought silently to himself. 'Too much of a good thing...' Rose watched her brother intently. "Beer isn't a good thing at all." She stated plainly. Ty lifted his head suddenly and his eyes flickered as he glared towards his sister. "What..did you say?" Rose looked to him, slightly confused. "I said..." Ty's nostrils flared angrily. "I heard what you said." he snapped. "But how did you..." he trailed off and stood, chucking his glass at Rose, slamming his chair into the table and stomping off. The glass hit Rosalind's head, but surprisingly didn't break. Emilia looked to Rose and frowned slightly."You ok?" she asked. Rose nodded slightly. Emilia sighed and cleared her throat quietly. "Jonathon called me earlier." She linked her fingers together and looked blankly at the table. "Uncle Jonathon?" Rose questioned. Her mother smiled slightly. "Yes, who else? Anyway, he said we should come over to visit him and Martha. Clark too, actually." She nodded. Rose nodded also. "That would be cool. I haven't seen them for a long time."  
  
  
  
After a few days of convincing Ty to come along, Emilia and her two children had packed the car and were headed to Smallville. It wasn't a long drive, only an hour or so. Which was strange. It had been over five years since the last time they went to Smallville. Rose was seven, and Ty was eleven. He and Clark had gotten along great. But Emilia somehow felt that things would change... 


	2. Chapter One

Clark Kent dribbled the basketball down the driveway and flew towards the net, dropping the ball right in. He slowly dropped to the ground, landing on his feet. He grinned slightly to Pete. "I can never get tired of doing that. Sorry." Pete shook his head and grinned back. Clark tossed the ball to his best friend. "Beat that." he said jokingly. Pete threw the ball towards the net, watching it sink right in. He grinned. "I just did." The two friends laughed. "Well, I better be heading home. Dinner." Pete looked to his watch and Clark nodded. "See you later." He watched his friend leave, then walked inside his house.   
  
  
Jonathon Kent glanced to his son from his seat at the table. "Hey Clark, your cousins come over today." Clark nodded slightly. "Oh yeah. How long are they staying?" he questioned. "A week or so." Jonathon looked back to his newspaper. Clark sat down on a chair. "Haven't seen them for a while. How old is Rosalind now?" Jonathon looked up. "She'd be...she'd be about thirteen now. Ty would be your age." He sounded a bit surprised. "Rosie's growing up." Clark smiled. "Yeah. I wonder if Ty still plays basketball." Jonathon sighed. "I don't think so. Emilia's been having some troubles with him lately. Ever since his dad died, he's been different. He won't listen to her. Just comes and goes as he pleases. She is hoping I can talk with him." Clark frowned. "Oh. That's no good. Maybe things will get better. It hasn't been that long since...it happened." Jonathon nodded. "I hope things get better too. Emilia's been through a lot." He shook his head as he thought about his younger sister. She had been through a lot lately.   
  
((Sorry about the shortness of this chapter. Hehe.)) 


End file.
